Alien: Mothers and Sons
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: In 2137, his mother had died on Sevastopol Station. Thirty years later, the emotional scars still remained.


**Mothers and Sons**

Peter had to say this about Jupiter Station – when he was gone, he'd miss the view.

There were a few perks to being a level 3 administrator within the Company. One of them was that he was entitled to a nice view. Three walls of his office were grey and drab, bereft of personal effects, and pretty much anything else bar numerous files (the Company always kept up on paperwork). The fourth wall however, was mostly taken up by a giant glass window that looked out into the stars. Jupiter Station rotated, so he only got to see Jupiter itself about a quarter of the time. Still, it was a quarter that he could live with. For again, there were the stars. There were the moons of the Jovian system that he could make out if he squinted hard enough. And all that aside, there were the endless starships that came to the most mighty of planets to ply their wares, whether it be the mines of Io, the hydroponic farms of Ganymede, or the famed dens of Callisto. Less starships now than when he'd first started here, but still, they were there. Large ion thrusters, glowing in the night sky, acting as testament to mankind's manifest destiny to claim the galaxy as its own.

Or so said the Children of the Way, but he didn't care. There'd been thousands of religions on Earth once. Out in space, people created their own. Chances were, centuries from now, some new prophet hailing from Jupiter would be given worship to. Still, that prophet wasn't him – he didn't work for prophets, he worked for profits, which was a fancy way of saying that he worked for the Company, helping ensure that it kept making profits. It was why he knew that this would be his last week on Jupiter Station. So he'd already turned away from the window and sat back at his desk before he got a call from Delia telling him that Ms Sato was on her way in. He grunted "thanks" and took a sip of the cup of coffee he'd poured himself ten minutes ago.

Still tasted terrible. And it was already getting cold.

"Ah, Peter. Thanks for seeing me."

He couldn't help but smile as she walked in. He knew what was about to happen. Still, he also knew that she was just going to do her job.

"Sorry I'm late," she continued. She pulled up a seat and managed to sit herself down in it, despite the folder under her arm. That, and the giant bulge in her belly.

"Actually you're on time," he said.

"I am?"

He looked at his watch. "Fourteen seconds early actually."

"Oh. Great."

"It's fine. You were always punctual. Even when bringing bad news."

He didn't mean it as a jibe, but the look in her eyes suggested that she thought it was. A shame. They'd been friends for as long as he could remember. On Earth, on Mars, and now, out at Jupiter. They'd travelled together, and yet…

"I'm sorry Peter. Really."

And yet, Yuki Sato had always been three steps ahead of him. At school. At university. Even within the Company. He might have a cushy admin job at Jupiter Station, but she was the head of the operation's human resources branch. In fact, given what was happening on the station, and how senior her position was, he knew that she had no obligation to see him personally. Most Company employees would get nothing but an email and severance pay.

"I tried, Peter,"Yuki said as she began opening her folder. In it were numerous files, all of whom either no longer had a job with the Company, or, like him, would soon be without one. "But, well, you know what times are like…"

"Yeah. I mean, the Company owns more wealth than half of Earth's nations put together, and it's looking at continued growth over the next decade due to the terraforming boom, but yeah – _tough_."

"Tough at Jupiter Station," Yuki murmured.

"Yeah. I know. I mean, gotta cut staff to cut costs and all that."

"Peter…"

"I know, I know," he said, raising his hands in mock defence. "Just…do what you have to do."

She gave him a sad smile and began to read the termination letter.

He'd known this was coming for months. Jupiter Station had originally been built by the Zwiess Corporation, before it had been bought out by the Company. Jupiter's moons were a treasure trove of resources – resources that Earth needed desperately. And while Mars and Luna were better sources in many regards, Jupiter itself was a vital source of helium-3. Plus, as the first of the outer planets, it was a logical pitstop for those to the outer reaches of the Sol system, or even the stars beyond.

But that had changed. Space travel had changed. Extrasolar colonization had been picking up over the decades, but once the Company had got into the game, once it had started "building better worlds," the industry had exploded. There was little reason to move to a rock like Mars or one of Jupiter's moons when you could get to the frontier in a matter of months – weeks if you were on a particularly fast ship. There were worlds out there like Earth, ripe for plunder. There were worlds unlike Earth, but could be made like it thanks to advances terraforming. Worlds that weren't like the moons of the Jovian system, where people had to endure recycled air, low gravity, and a constant barrage of radiation from Jupiter itself. The Jovian system was dying, and with it, so was the commercial and administrative hub named Jupiter Station. Unlike companies such as Seegson, the Company had seen the writing on the wall and realized that the future of space was in building better worlds, not in living in steel bubbles.

Which meant that Jupiter Station's staff was being downsized. Which meant that, as Yuki finished telling him, he was out of a job.

"…and in conclusion, the Company thanks you for your service, and wishes you the best in all future endeavours," Yuki said.

Peter blinked. "What?"

"Weren't listening?" She chuckled. "Can't blame you."

It was a joke, but it did nothing to lighten the mood. Nor did her pushing a small square device towards him.

"Scan here please."

Sighing, Peter put his thumb to the device. The scan was taken, and in Jupiter Station's mainframe, it was confirmed that he was no longer an administrator for the station. That he was no longer an employee of the Company for that matter.

"So," he said. "That's it."

Yuki sighed.

"It's alright, really," he said. His eyes went down from her face, to the belly that she was trying to hide under her blouse. "How's the kid?"

"Oh, he's fine," she said – she tried to hide it, but Peter could tell she was looking forward to being a mother. "Six months in. Little guy's kicking already."

"You got maternity leave planned?"

"Hmm. I'm thinking of taking it on Earth. My wife's parents are happy to raise their grandson."

"Yeah," Peter said. "Grandparents can be good at that, especially when…" He swung his chair around to look out to the stars. "Especially when your parents aren't around."

Yuki got to her feet. "I'm sure she was thinking of you when it happened."

"Maybe." He looked up at Yuki. "You told me boys didn't cry when I got the news, you remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. Stupid thing to say."

"Don't fret about it. People who screwed up Sevastopol were the stupid ones."

Yuki didn't say anything. Nor did Peter.

Thirty years. That was how long it had been since Sevastopol Station had been destroyed in a decommissioning accident – the accident that had claimed over 500 lives, including that of his mother. Seegson hadn't gone bankrupt overnight, but some had heralded it as the beginning of the end – proof that the ailing company had not only failed to monopolize the land rush of the late 21st century, but it couldn't even maintain what it had built. If he uttered the words "Sevastopol" in the year 2167, he doubted many people would remember it, but "Seegson?" People remembered Seegson. One of many companies that had folded or been absorbed by Weyland-Yutani.

Peter wouldn't mourn Seegson. Because of Seegson, his mother was dead. Her, and everyone else who had died that day. Everyone who'd lost their fathers and mothers like he had…people could have their conspiracy theories, people might invent stories about corporate sabotage or some other crap, but he had no time for them. Seegson had screwed up. Seegson was the reason he'd never gone beyond Sol.

"Peter?"

He looked up at Yuki, who was standing there with a bunch of papers in her hand. "What's this?"

"Opportunities," she said.

He took the papers in hand – each one of them was a job description. The details varied, but the constant was that they all involved admin work, and that they were all based on extra-solar locations.

"I've been able to pull some strings," she said. "If you want any of these positions, I can get them for you."

He looked up at her. "All of these are on frontier worlds."

"It's where the money is Peter. The Company needs staff out there to help run the show."

"Thought they wanted terraformers, not administrators."

"The latter needs to watch over the former. These are investments running in the billions – we want to make sure the terraformers are doing the jobs we're paying them for."

Peter grunted.

"I mean, this is a really good one," Yuki added, taking out one of the papers and reading from it. "LV-426. Acheron, if you want to use its informal name. It's only a decade old, but it's showing great promise. If I got you there, you'd be set for at least ten, maybe fifteen years."

Peter let out another grunt.

"And besides, it's not too far from where your mother…y'know…"

He looked up at her. "You really think I'm that person? That thirty years on, I'm pining for mum?"

"No, I just-"

"Go," he said. He handed the papers back to her. "Company doesn't want me at Jupiter Station, they obviously don't want me anywhere."

"Peter, that…" She took a breath. "Okay. Just…be in touch, alright?" She leant over to pat him on the shoulder, but one look from him told her that he wasn't interested in her comfort. She had a son and a wife. He had no-one – that's what came from a mother who got banged up on Mars, a grandfather who crashed his car, and a grandmother who overdosed on pills. The Company might be able to build better worlds, but it couldn't build better members of the human species.

He turned the chair round and watched Yuki head for the door. He didn't hate her. He hoped she knew that, despite all that had happened.

"Listen, Peter…"

Though given that she was trying to drag this out…well, it still wasn't hate, but it still as annoyance.

"Maybe I can't talk much. I mean, I had a lot of what you never did, but…" She paused, choosing her words carefully. "I mean, I didn't know your mother well."

"That makes too of us."

"And we were only three when it happened, but…" She took a breath. "She loved you, Peter. I'm sure of it. And I bet when it happened, she was thinking of you."

Peter said nothing. He just sat there. Watching her.

"Like I said, keep in touch, Mister Taylor."

He didn't know why she used his surname. But he gave her a nod, and watched her exit his office, the door closing with a hiss. Or ex-office, technically. It wasn't as if he had much to take with him, but the Company would want it vacated as soon as possible.

He'd start that soon, he told himself. But instead, he turned his computer screen on, the spinning **WY **logo greeting him. He went into documents, and double clicked on a folder marked "personal." In it, were a few files, all of which he'd have to delete before leaving the station. But like the clearing out, that could wait for now. Instead, he double clicked on a video file. One he'd carried with him for thirty years.

He set it to full screen. He wanted to see his mother's face fully when she uttered the same lie she always did.

**29.11.2137**

The date was in the top right hand corner, but he paid it no heed. He knew the date well enough. Instead, his gaze was focused on his mother as she began what would be her final recording.

_Is this on?_ the ghost before him asked.

Indeed, it had been when Nina Taylor had made this recording.

"_Oh good, it is." _She just sat there, awkwardly. Behind her was a sterile white office – the type of style that had been in vogue in the 2130s.

"_So, hey, Petey," _she said, using the nickname she always used for him. _"I know I said I'd be seeing you soon, but something's come up."_

She was excited. She'd always been excited at these sorts of things.

"_The Company's sending me out to a place called Sevastopol," _she continued. _"It's a big space station, way out in space." _She gestured with her arms to demonstrate the point, as one might to any three year old. _"Turns out that they've somehow found the flight recorder of the _Nostromo_ – that's a Company ship, by the way. Went missing fifteen years ago and we've never been able to find out why. I mean, if I crack this, if I can finally close the _Nostromo _case, I'll be on my way to…"_

She trailed off – over the hundreds of time he'd watched this, this was the moment that had caught him the most. This moment where she took off her glasses and rested her chin on her hand, looking away from the screen.

"_I'm sorry," _she said. _"You're not watching this to hear about my job. I bet you've stopped watching this already." _She laid back in her chair and looked right at the screen, cradling her glasses in her hands. _"I think I'll be back for Christmas Petey. It's a long trip, but the time at the station shouldn't take long. Two, three weeks tops and then I'll be able to see you again. But until then…" _She took a breath. _"You know, it's funny. I've been told that we're picking up another Company employee – she lost her mother in the _Nostromo _incident. I figure this might be closure for her, if we find out why her mother never came home." _She leant forward. _"I'm coming home Peter. I want you to remember that. I want you to remember that no matter what I say, no matter how long I'm away from you…that I love you. That you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And when I get back…I'll make it better, Peter. I promise." _She leant forward and gave the monitor a kiss. _"That's for you. And you'll be getting so many more hugs and kisses when I get back, my boy. My brave, beautiful boy." _

The recording only lasted two seconds longer – the time it took for Nina Taylor to sign off. The last two seconds that he could see her alive.

He sat there, staring at the "replay" button. A hand was to his chin, and his eyes were closed. Nina Taylor had never come home to her son. Nina Taylor was dead, along with the people she'd travelled to Sevastopol with, and everyone else who'd been on the station when it was destroyed. Yuki had told him that boys didn't cry. Most of the time, he was able to follow that advice when watching this. Still, right now, on this station, about to be cast out to the stars…well, that was a bit hard right now. The Company had screwed him over, when they'd offered his mother so much.

Still, the Company hadn't killed his mother. Seegson had.

He'd always have to live with that.

* * *

_A/N_

_So, I finished _Alien: Isolation_. This isn't the place to go on some detailed review (both good and bad), but I will say that an idea popped into my mind while writing this. As in, Amanda Ripley goes to Sevastopol to find out what happened to her mother. Sevastopol is destroyed, and it's covered up as a decommissioning accident (which isn't a bad cover story all things considered). Makes me wonder if there were any sons/daughters who'd want answers as to what happened to their parents, and ergo, go out to space, get killed, and so on._

_Of course, the analogy doesn't really work because there's at least a cover story for Sevastopol while the _Nostromo _remained a complete mystery in-universe for at least 15 years (and apparently 57 if you factor in Ripley's debriefing in _Aliens_), but drabbled this up. I will say that for all my gripes with the game, one of the best is where Amanda finds her mother's addendum message, while on the other hand, I think Taylor was really underutilized in the game. Guess the combination of this got me to drabble this up._


End file.
